Paroxysm
by fabricated fantasies
Summary: Hold my heart with both hands and never let go. - the next-generation, and thirty-three lives they might have lived. /AlbusOC - It's really quite easy to understand how they got here.
1. RoseLorcan

**a/n **This will be a collection of at least thirty-three NextGen pairings for the NextGen Armada on the NGF, which involves writing every nextgen het pairing thta can be created from the canon characters, along with some OCs for the Weasley-Potter boys. I'll probably add some (fem)slash or cousincest p[airings here or there, but these will be warned for and won't count towards the actual Armada.

A few notes:

- I'll update every Sunday, though if I'm really inspired I'll update twice a week, probably on Sundays & Thursdays.

- My Roxanne identifies as a lesbian. Yes, these are het pairings. No, they won't all be one-sided.

- I'll be trying a lot of different styles, though I'll probably never write in first person, because I'm rubbish at it.

- Some chapters may contain content that makes people uncomfortable or may be triggery - these chapters will have separate warnings for each.

- I do take requests! If you want to request, feel free to just put a pairing in my PMs or in a review (though I'm more likely to write it if it's in a review). Prompts and/or genres are optional, and I reserve the right to use a prompt for a different pairing if it inspires me more. AU scenarios and crossovers are definitely allowed, though if I've already done the pairing you ask for I may make it separate to this collection. If accepted, your pairing/idea chapter will be dedicated to you, so fun times all around! :)

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**one**

_pairing: _Rose/Lorcan

_title: _There's A Place For Us

_summary:_ Their tree-house holds memories they can't forget. Or, Rose and Lorcan, and five moments that shaped who they came to be.

_warnings:_ a couple of swear words.

For the Dark Side Competition ("There's a place that I know.") and the Favourite Era Bootcamp (sunset).

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**001. **

"Come on, come on!" Rose says, tugging at Lorcan's hand as they race through the backyard, leaves being crushed under their feet as they run. The cold autumn air hits them anew each time they duck out from behind a tree, causing them to shiver and run ever faster.

"Race you up the ladder," she grins mischievously, her left hand already reaching for the lowest rung of the rope ladder that dangles down the side of the sturdy tree. Her hair, a strange coppery colour that is not quite brown but not quite red, remind him of the leaves that fall off the trees around them, and he gets kind of lost in comparing her hair to the sunlight.

"Hurry up!" she yells, breaking his concentration, and he follows the sound to discover her already in the tree-house, waving down at him enthusiastically. "Stop dreaming and get up here, Lorcan!" she adds, a teasing impatience in her voice that six years of being forced together at Ottery St. Catchpole get togethers has taught him to abide - a bored Rose will inevitably end in disaster. His favourite stuffed Thestral has never quite recovered from when she discovered magic and set it on fire, and he's not sure whether it will still guard him after death if it's halfway there itself.

He scrambles to climb up to the tree-house, though he is a little slower and more sedate than the girl who dashed up before him, mindful of a recent growth spurt which left him with gangly limbs that move awkwardly if he tries to do something too fast.

"What're we doing today?" he asks, a little bit of a catch in his voice as he rubs at his stinging ankle. He must have caught it on something on his way up, though he's kind of used to it. Playing with Rose isn't exactly conducive to staying inside and away from anything even slightly dangerous, and he's the clumsier of the two.

"Welcome aboard the HMS Buttercup, First Mate Lorcan," she greets him, pulling a long tube of Styrofoam out of a pile of toys and sliding it into her belt. It's far too big for her, being almost as tall as she is, but as she stands there with her hands on her hips he could imagine her running a pirate ship in another life, skull and crossbones flag waving proudly in the wind, and giving at least half their riches to an anti-animal cruelty group. She loves lizards, for whatever reason, and has certainly valued their safety over Lorcan's at one point or another.

"Thanks for having me, Captain," he replies with a smile and a ruffle of his hair, and for a while they can lose themselves in fantasies of long ago days and past lives they might have lived, because they're only children and they don't have to worry about silly things like ethics.

(Looking back, he thinks that's when she started becoming the centre of his world, and even after everything he still isn't sure whether he would take back moments like these.)

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**002. **

"You're my best friend, you know," she tells him definitively, almost daring him to disagree. He won't, because he's never had a best friend other than Lysander before, and he thinks it might be kind of cool.

He opens his mouth to reply, but she gets in first, because she's the more talkative of the two and he knows she almost doesn't expect him to answer her.

"Are you coming?" she asks, placing her hands on the fourth rung of the rope ladder and beginning to climb, brown-red hair escaping its ponytail as she moves. Trying to figure out exactly what he should say the next time he gets the opportunity, she's more than halfway up the ladder before he decides to just keep it simple, and tries to get her attention.

"Rose!" he calls, craning his neck to get an actual view of her besides her arse, because it would be kind of awkward to conduct this conversation with her bottom, and he's half afraid that one of her cousins will pop out of a nearby tree and try to nail him with a paintball gun for so much as looking at it.

"Yeah?" she responds somewhat impatiently, twisting her lithe body to hold onto the rungs with one hand in order to peer down at him.

"You're my best friend too," he says, and the smile that lights up her face makes the cuts and bruises it took to get here worth it. She runs her tongue of her lip unconsciously before turning back to the trunk of the tree, and he kind of wants to kiss her. No, more than kind of - he wants to kiss her.

(Logically, he knows he's not supposed to think about people like that yet, but Rose is all kinds of pretty and several shades of self-absorbed, and for whatever reason, he more than kind of likes it.)

* * *

**003. **

"Can I paint you?" he asks her one summer as they clamber up into their tree-house, which he has long regarded as their private space - a place that is only theirs. He hears stories from his father about Rose's family's exploits in their tree-house, ones that burn his ears red and force him to avoid Audrey's gaze for days, though he chooses to believe that upon their first visit to the tree-house, all those memories were wiped clean.

"Get on with it, then," she says, already taking up a pose against the cleanest wall and grinning at him like she knows a secret. He wonders how long this will last, her complying with his requests, because she can't stay still for long and she abhors being bored. He retrieves his paints and easel from the corner and sets them up, fingers itching to capture the girlish innocence contained within her. However naive she may seem at times, there are dark thoughts that haunt the edges of her image that both fascinate and worry him, because he loves her and he wants to learn all of her layers, but he thinks that playing with the darkness may shatter her.

"You have to stay still, you know," he points out as she contorts her body into ever sillier poses, her arms thrown back and her lips pouted adorably.

"That's boring, though, and I refuse to be bored," she says adamantly, one hand rising unconsciously to her hip as he sketches as quickly as possible, his hand fly

"You know, I-" he starts, and maybe it's a punishment for thinking about kissing her without asking beforehand, or for imagining the myriad different ways he could ask her to go out with him, but the door opens and Albus stalks inside.

"Why is Adrian Davies asking to see you, Rose?" Albus asks without preamble, ignoring Lorcan's presence as if he is not even worth the precious seconds it would take to acknowledge him. He's used to it, though - being Rose's best friend is never going to lead to a pathway lit with solo spotlights, and being Lysander's twin brother will never get him attention, except for those few older girls who giggle in corridors and wonder what it would be like to sleep with both twins at once.

"Oh, good, he's here!" Rose exclaims, using her fingers as a make-shift brush in a hurried attempt to straighten herself out. He thinks she looks beautiful as she is, all wild messy hair and too many freckles and a t-shirt she stole off him once and never gave back, though it's a little too small for her now.

"See you later, Lor," she adds, kissing him swiftly on the cheek and climbing quickly down the rope ladder with the wind at her heels, and for a while he pretends that he can't hear her laughter bubbling out of the garden below as she flirts with Davies.

(All his paintings after that feature red - red like her newly dyed hair, like blood and like love, like a million words that hurt him not to say.)

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**004. **

He's eighteen and moody and dreamy and in love with the world, having long decided that he will love his best friend forever. Some days, he's okay with never actually being with her in the way he would like, because her friendship is enough and she's just broken up with the guy she's been dating since they were all fifteen. Some days, he doesn't know where his muse has gone - long ago are the days when they sailed the seas and painted beaches in faraway lands that they would never get to see. Her hair is red now, a fake kind of cherry red that he hates to see on her, but she does as she likes and he would never deny her anything.

She's on edge now, something he always expected would happen eventually. Rose has always been in love with the rise and fall, crashing from extreme highs to lower than low, because she wants everything and is too romantic and breaks a little too easily. It's why she's become who she has; why she's in their tree-house, biting her lip and looking like a feather could knock her down.

"Kiss me," she demands, leaning back against the wall and pushing out her breasts, her hands trailing over her upper thigh and tugging at the ends of her sweater. She's the picture of desperation and destruction, all bitten lips and smudged makeup and fiery curls that seem to bleed in the setting sun, deep orange tinged by scarlet that sets her face aglow. "Kiss me," she says, and the whole world is tied up in this moment. In this moment, he thinks he could ask her to love him, and she would, because she wants so badly to believe that she is alright.

"No," he replies, his voice quiet but determined as he always is to do as he likes, no matter what people expect of him. His hands remain perfectly still as she draws her head up to face him, her dark brown eyes boring into him like she can read his heart and know that he hesitated for a moment for a moment before replying.

"No?" she asks, and the laugh that escapes her lips is low and mocking. "You won't?"

"No," he repeats, because the more he looks at her the more he realises that he isn't what she needs, especially not now.

"You won't kiss me? Even though you love me? Have loved me for years?" she says, and the words tumbling from her reddened lips are more statements than questions. He can't find it in himself to feel shocked, because he's not exactly subtle, though she _is_ extraordinarily oblivious. He assumes that Albus told her, her cousin with the perception of a hawk, and the morals of a criminal who adheres to his own code and no one else's, and he finds he doesn't really mind. "Adrian said you loved me, made me promise not to leave him for you, and I promised, because I thought it wasn't true. But you love me, don't you?"

Not Albus then, he thinks.

"Yes, I love you," he says, raising his chin to meet her gaze full on, because he's not ashamed that he loves her, not at all.

"You love me."

"Yes," he replies, and wishes that he could predict the future, or at least read minds, because he isn't sure at all where she's going with this. The emotions flickering briefly in her eyes are like myriad ghosts that disappear whenever he tries to get a good look, and he doesn't dare look away from her to check her body language. There's something dangerous humming below the surface of her skin, like she might fall to pieces any moment. He has to be ready to catch her if she does.

"You've never lied to me, have you?" she starts suddenly, a hard edge to her voice that leaves no choice but to agree with her, because it's true

"You've never lied, _never_, not like- like," she stutters, her eyes blazing and her hair darkening as the sun falls down beyond the horizon. She crumples against the wall like paper, her limbs cracking under the pressure of keeping her devastated body upright and folding, letting her sink to the floor like a bag of bones.

"He fucked her," she whispers with a voice as dry as sandpaper, and a part of him thinks that she must be dehydrated from all the tears she's evidently spilt over Adrian. "_Carla_. He slept with her, and he _lied_ about it. He lied to _me_ about it, and to my cousins, and then one day she shows up at dinner and tells the whole bloody student body that she's been seeing Adrian for _weeks_!"

"Rose..." he says softly, sinking to the wall beside her, just far enough away that he isn't invading her space, but close enough that he doesn't feel like he's abandoning her.

"Am I not good enough for him? For anyone? Am I _broken_, Lorcan?" she pleads with him, curling into herself as if she can shut the whole world out, as if she doesn't have to see it then it is no longer there.

"You're a little bit broken," he tells her honestly, because he has never lied to her and he won't start now. "But not because something's wrong with you - because Adrian's the idiot who decided to mess around with you. Of course you're a little bit broken, anyone would be. But you'll be okay. I'll help you, if you want me."

"I want you," she says, and it's the complete opposite of the way he had always wanted her to say those words, but she's his best friend and he loves her and he always puts her first.

(His dreams of storybook romance end when he takes her hand and whispers that she'll be okay, because her heart is scored with painful memories and he doesn't want to push too hard in case she bruises. But still, he loves her.)

* * *

**005. **

"I can't believe you're moving," she says as they look out over the Burrow's backyard from their tree-house, her legs dangling over the edge of the entryway and tangling in the rope ladder. He smiles, drawing intricate sketches on the polished wooden railing that surrounds the house.

"It was time," he replies, and it's the truth. He doesn't fit here anymore, if he ever did; eternally on the fringes and clinging to Rose because she and his brother were all he had.

"You'll write?" she asks with a slight hesitance to her voice that is rarely there, her left foot winding around a rung until it's pulled so tight the blood might stop flowing. He knows her as well as he knows himself, knows that after Adrian she is never quite sure if someone will just up and leave her, even if they claim to love her. _Especially_ if they claim to love her.

"Of course," he replies, because he's loved her since they were twelve and she told him they were best friends, and even nine years on he wouldn't ever think of abandoning her. He does think that the move to Berlin will be good for him, though, a chance to get a little distance and maybe try to fall out of love with her, because though he tries to restrain his feelings, he can't help but feel jealous whenever she has extensive conversations with other guys.

"I'll miss you. A lot," she adds, unwinding her feet from the ladder and standing up to lean against the rail beside him, and he thinks that even if he's never quite fit in England, not even at Hogwarts, he's always fit here. Here, with Rose in their tree-house as the sun goes down.

(He'll move countries and she'll move towns, and they'll both fall in and out love with other people, but she's his best friend and he is hers, and he knows that there will always be a place for him to stand beside Rose and watch the sun disappear beyond the horizon.)

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**Please review! :)**


	2. LucyLysander

**two**

_pairing: _Lucy/Lysander

_dedication: _Pearl, for winning the Forum Competition II on the NGF

_title: _they say that love is forever

_summary:_ In which Lysander sweats enough to quench the thirst of a herd of flobberworms, and can't quite get up the courage to ask Lucy out.

_notes:_ lysander is awkward, rambliness due to character traits, literal name drop of a few gay characters with the tiniest hint of slash ever - if you can pick up on it, I will love you forever and possibly dedicate a chapter to you :)

For the Canon vs Fanon Competition, Favourite Era Bootcamp (bravado - 33), and Pairing Diversity Bootcamp (nerves - 22)

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i can't imagine being anywhere else  
i can't imagine being anywhere else but here  
i fell in love from the moment we kissed  
since then we've been history

- _Scene One_, Sleeping With Sirens

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"Hey, Lucy," he greets, striding up to her with a (hopefully) confident expression on his face, because he intends to ask her out today and he has to do this right. He hopes that she won't see the purple markings under his eyes from staying up all night testing out different ways to start the whole go-on-a-date-with-me-please conversation, much to his bored roommate's annoyance and inability to understand why he would go through much effort for a girl. But then, he reconsiders, Justin is gay and seems to have something against Lucy anyway, though he has no idea why.

"Are you alright, Lysander?" she asks in her dreamy voice, one that never fails to catch his attention, and he realises with a distressed twitch of his eye that he's stopped dead in the middle of a busy corridor, and has been staring off into space instead of staring at _her_.

"'M fine, Luce," he mumbles, forcing his lips into an embarrassed smile. She responds in turn, and it's kind of pathetic that his palms start sweating the moment she smiles at him, and he tries to smile even wider, because maybe if he practically sends his lips to opposite sides of the country, Lucy won't pick up the fact that his bravado is very, very false. It's unlikely, though, since she's the most perceptive person he knows.

"Do you want to have a conversation with me?" she queries, sounding somewhat distracted, but after literal years of friendship he's kind of used to it. She doesn't mean to sound uninterested, he knows - it's just that she thinks so many things. He remembers sitting in the Astronomy Tower with her leaning on him, tiredness exuding from every pore, though she still had enough energy to talk without him having any input, changing the subject every three minutes whenever she thought of something new. Before that night, he hadn't thought it was possible for someone to think that much.

"Yes!" he says in an overly loud voice that manages to catch the attention of Hugo's best friend, who immediately looks interested when she sees how nervous he looks. He groans internally; Ella is possibly the most gossipy person ever, and being best friends with a Weasley means that she's privy to the worst parts of most scandals. He can only hope that Roxanne manages to come out to the school in the next hour or so before the rumours start spreading, since the last time Ella didn't know the whole story on something, the entirety of Gryffindor house thought that Dominique was pregnant with James' baby.

At least he sounds more confident than a minute ago.

"I'll, uh, walk you to class. If that's okay?" he asks, his hands sweating more when he catches a glimpse of the distinctly confused look on her face. _Of course she's confused, you always walk her to class_, he reminds himself, resisting the urge to hit himself across the face, because she might be even more concerned for his sanity if he did that.

"Hold this, please," she requests, holding out a pencil decorated with tiny depictions of birds engraved in silver. He takes it gingerly, not wanting to risk accidently losing something of his potential girlfriend, though he isn't sure why she even has a pencil with her when all they use around here are quills, and sometimes charcoal.

"It's my good luck charm," she responds in answer to his unasked question, but they've been friends for so long that he is no longer shocked at her ability to read his mind. He watches as she twists her long blonde hair into a round-shaped blob of hair - he thinks Lily calls it a bun, but she's probably wrong - and holds her hand out for the pencil.

That's when he starts to panic, because her admittedly very pretty pencil has been in his hand for a whole minute and a half, and it's more than likely that it'll be damp from his sweat. He could probably quench the thirst of a herd of dying flobberworms by this point, and those things dry out more quickly than his father consumes lemon cakes at Christmas, and he's been known to eat an entire batch before Lorcan has even started the next one.

"Erm," he starts, and then stops, because any excuse he could come up with to discreetly wipe down the pencil would just sound ridiculous, and he figures he's been strange enough today to get away with turning away and rubbing the pencil on his robes. So he does.

"Here you go," he adds with a cheerful smile, placing the pencil into the centre of her outstretched palm and curling her fingers around it. "I'll see you later." He has to get away from her before he does something he shouldn't, like kiss her. Asking her out is one thing, but kissing her is something he's barely dared to dream about.

"Later," he hears her echo as he walks away, down the corridor and up the stairs. He's almost reached his classroom when he runs into Justin, who is talking frantically to Irene about their Charms homework. It is overhearing his complaint about being up all night because of Lysander that makes him stop. All his palm sweating and practising and fretting over Lucy would have been for nothing if he doesn't just ask her.

That settles it.

"Lucy!" he yelps, dashing down the staircase for the second time that day and completely ruining his hair. He is near breathless when he comes to a stop in front of her, his tie askew and his cheeks flushing in a way that they hadn't been a minute before.

"Yes, Lysander?"

"Willyoubemygirlfriend?" he blurts, all the words running together in his haste to get them out without stuttering or making an even greater fool of himself.

"Of course," she says. "I was waiting for you to ask, so I could say yes," she adds, her hand coming up to tuck a stray bit of hair behind her ear, wedging it behind the pencil.

"Oh," he responds, still breathing hard, though thankfully his hands have stopped sweating quite so much. "Cool, then."

"Was there anything else?" she asks, her eyes glittering in a way that makes him think that she's laughing at him on the inside, but it's Lucy and she would never do that. Would she?

"No - no, I think that's it," he says with a wide grin, still not quite over the fact that _Lucy Weasley_, the most gorgeous person ever to bless the world with her presence, has agreed to be his girlfriend. _His_ girlfriend!

"I'll see you later, then," she says, her gaze already drifting away from his face and towards something he can't see from where he's standing.

"Right, cool," he replies, still slightly stunned. It's this fact that he'll use to excuse his lack of response when telling the story to a slightly stone-faced Justin, as she leans so close to him that he can see every individual blonde eyelash clinging to her eyelid.

"Is this okay?" she asks, and he nods as quickly as possible without the risk of his head falling off. He's extraordinarily glad when she takes his hand gently and places it on her waist, because he has no idea what to do when a girl is this close, before leaning even closer and pressing their lips together. It only lasts fourteen seconds - he counts every moment - but it's Lucy, so it feels like perfection. It also doesn't hurt that that's his first kiss and it could've been with the aforementioned flobberworms and he wouldn't have complained too much, but still.

"Right, cool," he repeats as he watches her walk away, a smile etched permanently onto his face that he thinks will never leave, though it's starting to hurt by this point.

"I'm awesome," he whispers to himself, right hand clenching into a jubilant fist, because maybe he's a romantic at heart and he falls in love too easily, but this might be the greatest day of his life. Lucy Weasley agreed to go out with him, and as he starts towards his own classroom, he doesn't know how life could get any better than this.

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**a/nII **please review!


	3. RoseTeddy

**three**

_pairing: _Rose/Teddy

_title: _turn the radio on and dance to my heartbeat

_summary:_ The Wireless Wizarding Network enlists Potterwatch - and Lee Jordan - to interview guitarist/songwriter Rose Weasley and her husband, but she doesn't make it easy.

_notes:_ child born out of wedlock, sexual references, sassy!Rose; something a little bit different.

For the Favourite Era Bootcamp (romantic).

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_Transcript of Potterwatch radio interview; July 2025._

* * *

Lee Jordan: "-And for our next segment, we have _Compendium_'s very own Rose Weasley, the daughter of two-thirds of the Gold Trio - and no, I'm not talking about Harry and Ron - along with her recently condemned husband, Teddy Lupin, dragon keeper and son of our favourite dead werewolf, Remus Lupin, and his wife, Tonskie!" [pauses] "Wow, guys, that's a really long introduction. Do you think you could keep your accomplishments down for next time?"

Rose Weasley: "I don't think being born is an accomplishment, Lee. You don't have to announce our parentage every time you interview a Weasley-"

Theodore Lupin: [cuts in] "-or Potter-"

Rose: "-child."

Lee: "And you couldn't have told me that _before _I almost killed myself?" [laughs lightly] "Now, Rosie-"

Rose: [interrupts] "Don't call me that." [pauses, looks sideways at Teddy and sighs] "Continue."

Lee: [to Teddy] "Was she always this sarcastic, or have I just lost my tolerance since you two left on your honeymoon?"

Teddy: "Yeah, she's always been like this. But I love it about her, so it's easy to put up with." [studio audience awws]

Rose: "This is why I keep you around, Tedster." [whispers something into his ear too low for the speakers to catch; Teddy turns an interesting shade of orange-pink] "Sorry, Lee, back to you. I'll be quiet for a minute, I promise."

Lee: "So, the two of you got married in April, just a few short months ago. I've got some reader questions here about it, actually."

Rose: [quietly] "Joy."

Lee: [reads from parchment] "'Rose, I love you and Teddy, you're my favourite couple in the band fandom' - I have no idea what that is, actually, if any of our listeners want to tell me what a 'band fandom is?' - 'but I have a quick question. Why didn't you change your name when you got married? I always thought Rose Lupin had a ring to it.'"

Rose: "Basically, I didn't want to change my name, because it's mine, and people know me professionally as Rose Weasley, so it would've been confusing to change it. Also, why should I have to change my name because I'm the girl?"

Teddy: "We discussed me changing my name, but like Rose, I have a strong attachment to my name and didn't want to give it up. And Weasley-Lupin is a bit of a mouthful to say."

Lee: [reads] "'Will any photos be released of the two of you from the wedding? I've seen the posed one in the Daily Prophet, but I heard you wore something different for your actual wedding. Is that true?'"

Teddy: "We did wear different outfits for the actual ceremony, but I'm not sure how many photos are floating around with us wearing them. There's one that I know of, but I don't know how many others."

Lee: "I've got the official wedding photo here - taken by the Prophet, wasn't it?"

Rose: "Yeah, it was - I kind of hate it, actually." [wrinkles nose] "I look _sappy_, and slightly like a cross between a wooden doll and my father. It's kind of creepy."

Teddy: "We had another one taken, right after we got married, actually, but it wasn't good enough for the Prophet, apparently."

Lee: "I've got it with me, surprisingly enough." [Rose makes a strangled noise; Lee grins] "I may or may not have borrowed it off George on my last visit. And by 'may or may not', I mean, I did."

Rose: "We got that, thanks Lee."

Lee: "For the folks at home, the original wedding picture features Rose, wearing a dashing shade of purple pyjama bottoms and a grey shirt, standing next to Teddy, who's dressed as a pirate of some sort." [snorts] "You may have beaten Stephen and I for best wedding picture, though we're both drunk in ours. As was the photographer."

Rose: [sarcastically] "Way to send a good message to all the kids listening."

Teddy: "As if you've ever cared about that, Rose."

Rose: "Hush."

Lee: [raises eyebrows] "So, care to explain why exactly you're dressed... like that? I think it's great, but I don't think that Molly Weasley - that's Rose's grandmother, for those of you who have been living under a rock for fifty years - would have been too pleased."

Teddy: "Neither was Gran."

Lee: "That's Andromeda Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin's mother, and Teddy's grandmother, listeners." [pauses, looks at the clock]

Rose: "It's a bit of a story, actually - _Compendium_ had just finished our first set at the Wizard Rock concert a couple of weeks ago, and Teddy was supposed to be in London with Medea-"

Lee: "Reminder to our listeners, that's Rose and Teddy's daughter, born in April last year, and my god-daughter, because by that point the Weasley family and company ran out of people to award godparent-ship to."

Rose: "Also because you drove me to the hospital while Teddy fainted. Twice." [she and Lee laugh] "So yeah, we'd just finished the set when Teddy appeared, and I completely freaked out, because I thought something was wrong with 'Dea. And then he says that he left her with Mum and Dad, so I'm like, okay, why're you here then? He just Apparates us into this little garden place, and tells me-"

Teddy: [interrupts] "All this wedding stuff is getting to me - and don't shake your head at me, you know you're getting tired of it too, and you aren't the one stuck with Dom 24/7. I didn't know there were four shades of beige-"

Rose: "-so then I'm just like, let's get married now, then. Take the pressure off-"

Teddy: [continues] "I said yes, and the rest-"

Rose: "-of the night was spent shagging on the grass. I missed the second set to get married. I don't think Ella's forgiven me yet."

Lee: "Ella, being-"

Teddy: "-Do we have to tell everyone who everyone is? If they're listening to this, then they probably know who the band members are."

Lee: "Teddy... That's true, actually." [pauses, thinks for a moment] "Alright, for you rock-hiders, Ella Finnegan, the daught-"

Rose: [interrupts, rolling her eyes in irritation] "We are _not _doing the parentage thing again. It's not even relevant. Ella's a fantastic lead singer, who cares who her parents are?"

Lee: [clears throat] "Right you are, Rosina. So, what made you decide to get married right there and then?"

Teddy: "Like we said, the pressure of having this big wedding thing was getting to us. The ceremony was all we wanted, really, the big fancy wedding isn't really our style. Besides, Rose and I are equally impulsive. It's a terrifying combination, because neither of us really thinks about the consequences."

Lee: "But you went through with the ceremony with your family afterwards?"

Rose: "Family is really important to both of us, and we wanted them there. Besides, Dominique did a lot of work for this wedding-"

Lee & Teddy: "-that's Dominique Weasley, daughter of Bill and Fleur, and Rose's cousin-"

Lee: "-as well as being Teddy's ex-girlfriend's sister."

Rose: [rolls eyes] "Thanks for that, Lee."

Teddy: "Why are you thanking him, Rose? There's no need to bring any of that up."

Rose: [rolls eyes] "That's the only problem with Teddy here - besides the inability to not drink straight out of the orange juice carton-"

Teddy: [laughs, mutters something too quietly for the microphone to pick up]

Rose: [sighs irritatedly] "Stop laughing, Teddy, it's disgusting, and no, I don't care that I sound so much like my mum right now! " [pauses] "Back to my original point, Teddy's sarcasm radar seems to be broken, which causes some communication issues with us, as I'm fluent in sarcasm and he rarely gets it. It's very trying."

Teddy: [sourly] "You're very trying."

Rose: "At least I'm cute."

Teddy: "At least I don't sing in the shower at three in the morning." [pause, continues quietly] "You are cute, though."

Rose: "I know, but thank you. And the same to you - your hair isn't as eye-meltingly awful as usual, and you do have lovely eyes, so."

Teddy: "I'll take that as a compliment."

Rose: "Good, it was intended as one."

Teddy: [softly] "I love you sometimes."

Rose: "Right back at you, Tedster." [they kiss, Rose getting half of Teddy's shirt buttons undone before Lee tries to pull them apart.]

Lee: "Guys, you know we're still on air? Oh, you don't care?" [pauses, listens intently to sounds the microphones aren't picking up] "Do you kiss your husband with that mouth, Rose Weasley? [pauses, laughs despite himself] "Well, I guess you do."

Rose: [knocks over a chair and hits the radio transmission box, causing the broadcast to fade out for a moment]

Lee: "Our guests appear to have decided to take some time for a romantic interlude, so we'll be back after this break!"

* * *

Lee: "Hello, loyal listeners of _Potterwatch_, and welcome! You're tuned into our exclusive interview with Rose Weasley, daughter of-"

Rose: [cuts in, covers microphone] "Right, we're not going through all that again."

Lee: "Right then. Now, Rose, you stirred up quite a bit of controversy with your decision to have a child at barely nineteen, when you were just starting your career. Now, we all know that Medea's adorable, but was it an easy decision to make?"

Rose: "Well, I thought the press needed something to talk about besides Roxanne's lesbian-ness - seriously, it's been years, get over it people - and the highly interesting subject of paint drying, so I was like, why not?" [laughs]

Teddy: "That's our Rosie, always thinking of others."

Rose: "Since when can _you_ use sarcasm effectively?"

Teddy: "I learned from the best."

Rose: "Me, obviously."

Teddy: "Uncle Harry, actually - you should've heard him talking to James a few weeks ago. He's surprisingly adept at it. That, and yelling really loudly. He should put that on his resume."

Rose: "What, 'is able to yell at slackers who knock up their girlfriend's'? I don't think that's really a career skill."

Lee: [stops laughing, though with obvious effort] "Tell us, how do you do it? _Compendium_ is starting their second pub tour, and I heard from a very reliable source that Teddy will be moving back to Romania for a year, along with Medea, and of course you're both ordinarily very busy people. Is it hard, spending so much time apart?"

Rose: "Is that reputable source Alicia? Because you know that she just gets her information third-hand off my mum, don't you?"

Teddy: [cuts in] "Actually, I think the source is George, I was talking to him and Charlie about it at lunch on Sunday."

Rose: "That's alright then." [gestures broadly with one hand, almost knocking her microphone down] "Continue."

Teddy: [looks at Rose, pauses, and then turns back to Lee] "To answer your question, it is pretty hard, but we both love what we do. We make sure we have time for just us every now and then - that's one good thing about having so many family members, there's always someone to shove your kid off onto!"

Lee: "Family which includes the Malfoys, if I'm correct? Which I am."

Teddy: [rubs the back of his neck] "Yeah, Scorpius is family, same as Astoria and Draco, though we don't usually leave Medea with them."

Rose: "Scorpius babysat her a few times, though."

Teddy: "Does that count, since it was our wedding gift?"

Rose: "I still can't believe that even with all the family fortune he has access to, he was too lazy to buy us an actual gift."

Teddy: "I think it was sweet of him."

Rose: [pats his hand] "Of course you do." [to Lee] "He's the romantic of the two of us."

Lee: "I've noticed." [looks at the clock, and then down at the sheet of paper with the questions on it] "We have time for one last question." [reads] "'If you could tell one thing to Medea right now that she could use in the future, what would it be?'"

Rose: "Always use protection, and don't trust the bloke to handle anything. Because it _will_ fail, and I'm not ready to be a grandmother."

Teddy: "Rose!"

Rose: "It's not as if it's a secret, Teddy."

Teddy: "Still, why say something like that on radio? What if she hears this recording and is scarred for life? She's only _one_, you know, and-" [Rose leaves the room, Teddy following behind, still talking]

Lee: "I guess that's all for tonight, folks! That's Rose Weasley and Teddy Lupin leaving the studio for the first time, but not the last. The password is for tomorrow is _Compendium_, and we'll see you next time on _Potterwatch_! "

[sound fades to a dull crackle]

* * *

_End transcript._

* * *

**a/n **Please review! :)


	4. AlbusOC

**four**

_pairing: _Albus/OC

_title: _trapped in the space between love and hate

_summary:_ Albus and Jayani have never gotten on, and never will. Never.

_warnings: _ableist slurs, swearing, mentions of sex.

_dedication: _for Nina - thank you for being my inspiration, and for lending me Diya to be my inspiration for Jayani. I loved these two so much that they became my headcanon, and I'm sure you'll recognise a scene or two.

For the Pairing Diversity Bootcamp (smugness).

List of OCs for reference at the end.

* * *

i feel like if i'm too kind then you will only change your mind  
take advantage of my heart and i'll go back into the dark

- _Lonely Hearts Club_, Marina and the Diamonds

* * *

They're waiting outside the hall when he looks at her for the first time, his emerald eyes boring into her shiny black hair, and he's idly wondering if she uses some kind of shining product when she turns around and glares, brown eyes locking with green.

(Just like his father's eyes, they tell him, and he sighs because even then he's tired of being exactly like his father. He'd rather be like his brother.)

"What?" he mouths at her silently, and she rolls her eyes and turns away, looking for all the world as if everything he does is beneath her. From then on, she fascinates him, much like bugs had when he was six and wondered why not everything had two or four legs.

He has to wait until the end of the ceremony to find out her name, long past him own sorting ("Slytherin!" the hat calls, and the succeeding gasps are burned into his ears), but when he discovers who she is, a corner of his mouth quirks up in a tiny smile.

Jayani Zabini, he thinks; you just made yourself a new best friend.

(Of course, it isn't that easy.)

* * *

"Hey, Zabini!" he calls out to her as she leaves their classroom, her head bent down to avoid the spells flashing overhead between two fourth years he doesn't know, and his head is filled with interrupted thoughts of carrying her books or talking about their next class, but the look on her face when he reaches her stops him in his tracks.

"Why are you talking to me?"

"I won't bother next time, then, if I'm not welcome," he replies haughtily, trying to make her feel guilty and appear confident, and settling for arrogant and self-centred.

"You're not," she says shortly, clutching her books even more tightly to her chest, and he's so shocked that he can't even think of something witty to say to her disappearing back.

"Wait, Zab-" he starts, running after her and forgetting everything else in his determination to have the very last word, because James never lets him and Lily even less.

When he wakes up in Hospital Wing with a throbbing headache and a very pretty fourth year crying hysterically about how she didn't mean to, he's not sure whether to blame his height for getting in the way of the fight, or thank it. Mostly, he wonders if Zabini feels guilty, because she is even more to blame than his genes.

* * *

He goes out of his way to annoy her, now, from dropping things into her cauldron when she lets down her guard for even a second, to telling Scorpius Malfoy that she's in love with him. The last doesn't make an impact until almost a year later, when Scorpius' first girlfriend asks what happened to 'that Zabini girl'.

"Potter, can you stop that!" she screeches, her face turning a very light turquoise that contrasts nicely with the royal blue lining her robes. He's done her a favour, really, by not changing the colour to a bright red like Adrian had recommended. Of course, he doesn't exactly know how to do that, but it's a favour nonetheless.

"Stop what? Working diligently?" he questions snarkily, ignoring Scorpius' comments that his innocent expression and tone is a little bit much, and resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Of course it's a bit much. That's the point - how else will she know for sure that he did it, without actually having proof, or him having to choreograph house elves to dance on the tables holding arrow-shaped signs that proclaim 'Albus did it! Mwahahaha!"

"Urgh, you, you - you _suck_, Potter. Change it back!" she demands, her voice now reaching a pitch that makes their conversation easy to overhear. He grins to himself as

* * *

"Potter!" she snaps, striding up to him and pushing through the throngs of people in the corridor until she's standing in front of him, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Yes, Zabini?" he drawls lazily, cockily arrogant even at barely thirteen, but she is one of the few people he will not bother to charm.

"Why did you tell Aria Hawkins that I kissed your brother?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he responds flippantly. "Besides, he wanted to break up with her, and I gave him an excuse to do so."

"Why _wouldn't_ you? Because Aria's locked herself in the girl's bathroom and is crying more than Moaning Myrtle ever did," she says, glaring at him until it feels like flames are about to start shooting out of her eyes. "It's your fault. Fix. It." With that, she spins and flaunts off, joining a group of girls he recognises from their uniform as being Ravenclaws.

He sighs, heading for the bathroom and hoping that no one will stop him on the way up. He usually wouldn't bother, because he wouldn't be particularly pleased if he got caught sneaking into the girl's bathroom, but he doesn't want to think about Aria crying all alone. He actually does like her - a little too much, actually, and he resolves to keep his involvement out of it.

By the end of the week, Aria is smiling and hugging him like he's her best friend, and if he smirks at Zabini when they cross paths in the corridors, what of it?

* * *

He gives her something for her birthday every year since their fourth year. The first time it's a mouse that Adrian pulled out of a wayward Christmas cracker he discovered under his bed, and Albus only gives it to her in order to make her feel bad that she hadn't given him anything for his birthday. After that, it becomes tradition for him to give her something and for him to get nothing back, though he notices that she's slightly nicer to him in the week following her birthday. Slightly.

* * *

Sometimes, he really hates his family. Actually, most of the time he hates them, but there are particular moments of his life that he can pick out as true dislike for a particular member on a particular day, and although Roxanne is his favourite cousin - since she's a Slytherin and yet not at all like the icy Dominique - she isn't exempt.

"Hey, Al, who're you taking to the ministry ball? James says - and I quote - that 'you need to get off your skinny arse and get with a girl in public. Those rumours about you and Malfoy aren't going to go away by themselves,'" she says, coming up to him between classes without him even noticing until she starts to speak.

"Like I care what James says," he responds, disgruntled at having to hear yet another gay rumour about himself, because they're only half true, and he would never hook up with Scorpius. Ever. Even he has morals, and sleeping with his best friend, who he loves more than his brother, crosses a line he wouldn't dare put a toe over.

"You've got to take someone, anyway. Everyone is, even Lily," she reports, ignoring his eye-rolling in favour of telling gossip, and he takes back his earlier thoughts. In this respect, at least, she is exactly like Dominique, even if the latter then uses whatever she learns to manipulate all and sundry. He'd be proud to be related to her, actually, if he didn't know for a fact that she was the first person to start the rumours that he was fucking Scorpius and Carla at the same time.

"Who's she taking?" he asks, intrigued in spite of his annoyance, because Lily is at least slightly better than James, and he makes it his business to threaten blokes who mess with her. He knows she could probably do it, more effectively even, but he likes to. It gives him an excuse to not talk to her when she's having problems with her cat, or whatever it is thirteen year olds fuss about.

"Lyndon Hughes, from Ravenclaw."

"_That_ ponce?" he replies, shocked at his sister's poor taste, and wonders (not for the first time) how they are related at all.

"He's got nice eyes, though," she admits.

"Thought you were gay?" he asks, not really confused, just wanting to tease her a little because this kind of banter reminds him why he doesn't hate her as much as the others.

"Eyes have nothing to do with breasts, you twit. Even you've got nice eyes, and you're a twisted git," she adds, rolling her eyes in that half-affectionate, half-exasperated way she's perfected for dealing with everyone. He'll never let on how jealous he is that she can do so much with her eyes.

"Feeling the love, Roxy. It doesn't matter anyway, Lily can't go with anyone. She's thirteen," he says, bringing it back to the topic at hand and hoping that she'll forget about the beginning of their conversation. He doesn't feel like rehashing that one any time soon.

"Tell that to Lyndon. And stop changing the subject. Who are you taking?" she questions persistently, and he makes up his mind there and then that she's a mind reader, because it's fucking creepy how she will always do _exactly_ what he doesn't want her to do.

"_Merlin_, Zabini."

Jayani Zabini had started walking towards him with a glint in her eye that Albus didn't like at all. It was a look that appeared often when the two of them were in the same vicinity, and when combined with an eye twitch, often culminated in his foot being stomped on or him ending up in detention. Thankfully, two boys letting a pair of tiny black monkeys free from their cage distracted her, but not before Albus exclaimed loud enough for Roxanne to hear.

"What, you're taking _Zabini_? The one you hate, or the hot one?" his cousin pipes up, sounding more gossipy than he's ever heard her, and for the first time he thinks that maybe she's a little more devious than he thought she was.

"Jayani's pretty enough," he says, reluctantly defending her, because only enemies can be hated on by each other, and he's not so annoyed with her that he can't admit that she's gorgeous. He's seen her mother, and that kind of prettiness definitely didn't skip a generation.

"So you _are _taking her? Fred owes me ten galleons, then."

"Er, no. As if I'd ever be seen with her, of all people. And if Fred owes you ten galleons, tell him it's true and give me half," he adds, unperturbed at the mention of people betting on him, let alone his family. He can't be worried or offended, he's done it often enough himself - in fact, Lily still owes him thirteen sickles from his last bet with her. He _knew_ she was going to crash Dad's broom, though he hadn't counted on her selling him out and telling Mum that he was the one who stole it out of the shed. He had taught her too well.

"What? No. Thirty percent."

"Forty five."

"Forty."

"Done. But you still have to have a date, unless you want to spend half your evening getting rid of whoever Grandma Molly 'suggests' you dance with," she adds, grinning as she starts to walk away, before doubling back. "Wait, are you actually going with Zabini?"

"Of course not."

"Shame. I was going to give you the rest of Fred's bet money, since you would have actually earned it," she says slyly, and he thinks that maybe his cousin's in Slytherin for a reason other than her ambition. She knows he can never resist a challenge, one of the many reasons he and Zabini don't get on, because neither can she, and they're both determined to win.

"Fine, I'll ask her," he says, and hopes she'll forget.

(She doesn't, of course, and consistently steals his socks and hair products until he gives in and says he'll do it tomorrow. She's the only person who could possibly keep him to this promise.)

* * *

"Look, Jayani, I know we don't get along most of the time," he says one April morning, falling into step beside her in the corridors and ignoring the whispering and betting going on around him. If it were him, he'd put a full three Sickles on an argument breaking out between them in the next four minutes. Hell, if he had bet three Sickles he would start an argument just to make sure he got his money. Albus Potter doesn't like to lose.

"-try _ever_. What do you want, Potter?"

"Come to the ministry ball with me? My cousin's hassling me about it, and she saw you and told me to ask," he lies smoothly, keeping his face carefully blank as she scrutinises his expression.

"Are you drunk? Or better yet, did someone switch your personality with Davies, because that sounds exactly like a line he'd use," she frowns, and he can practically see her putting her defences up.

"No, I'm not drunk, and no, I'm not Davies, thank Merlin, because he's a right prick," he expounds, recalling the boy refusing to turn off the bloody light each morning for the last four and a half years. "Please?" he adds, his mind alternating between images of a pile of gold and Zabini in a low cut dress.

"Fine. But you have to go to the next two detentions I give you - because there will be a next two - and you can't comment on my dress," she says with a sigh, and if there's a little bit of relief in her voice, he's probably just imagining it there. "And you have to dance with my sister, in full view of my parents," she adds, and he doesn't question her before he says yes. He has ten galleons to win, and broom polish to buy. Maybe a pair of tweezers, if he charms the shop assistant enough.

* * *

"Pay up, Roxanne Weasley. I win," he says when he finds his cousin that afternoon, his tone full of arrogant smugness, and he steadfastly ignores the smile that she wears as she hands over his winnings.

"I guess you have," she says, and he really, really hates it when other people seem to know more than he does.

* * *

"Want to dance?"

"I don't dance, Potter - ask my sister."

"Why do you want me to dance with your sister so badly? Isn't she a lesbian, anyway?"

"Not exactly, but for all intents and purposes, yeah. She's supposed to be keeping the fact that she's dating your cousin under wraps, but she's not doing a great job of it."

"I'd be impressed at her apparent skill at tonguing Roxanne, if this whole shebang didn't have sudden incestuous overtones."

"Shebang?"

"_That's_ what you pick up? Not the weirdness?"

"I don't feel any weirdness."

"Of course you don't."

"What was that?"

"I said, are you sure you don't want to dance? Merlin, Zabini, take a hearing potion."

"Am I supposed to be convinced by that?"

"Are you?"

"Not at all."

* * *

It's April when he meets her at a bar one night, and his first thought is that it seems like the perfect opportunity for revenge. Revenge for what, he doesn't quite know, but he's sure there's a reason. She's always done something; it's just hard to remember what it is through the layers of arrogance and self-pity and alcohol he wears tonight.

"Hey, Zabini," he says, walking up to her all casual confidence, like she doesn't hate him like she loves Quidditch, and they aren't the most volatile when they're together.

"What, Potter?" she snaps back, her voice frigid ice, and he wonders whether it's masochistic of him to love the way she says his name.

"Someone hasn't had enough to drink yet, clearly. Who put bitch pills in your tea, Zabini? Something must have sucked all the fun out of you."

"Oh, piss off."

"Merlin, you're such a priss. I bet you can't drink as much as me - I bet you can't even finish off one glass," he mocks her now, carefully, deliberately, the way he always tries to do things.

"Challenge accepted," she replies without the slightest bit of hesitation lingering in her voice, because for a Ravenclaw, she's got an impulsive streak a mile wide that could match any Gryffindor's. She gulps down half of her first drink and he follows suit, the sickly sweet and sour taste of cherry syrup mixed with Firewhiskey burning his throat.

"I like your style, Zabini," he acknowledges, and she smiles, and for one hazy moment he thinks that he wants to make her smile that way for the rest of forever, but then she knocks back another gulp and her smile disappears.

"Why are you talking to me, Potter?" she asks, hand clenched around her empty glass as if it has all the answers, and you're not sure how you should respond, because this is the most vulnerable you've seen her and you live to exploit her insecurities, and yet...

"Just trying something new," he shrugs, and orders another drink so he doesn't have to watch her face fall.

One night, he meets her at a bar and gets them both drunk. By the end of it, he swears he loves her, but he's almost certain that that's just the alcohol talking.

* * *

"Ugh, turn the fucking light off, Davies," Albus moans as he slips back into consciousness, habit reminding him to pick up a pillow from beside him and throw it in the general direction of Davies' bed. The light remains stubbornly on, the brightness filtering through his eyelids and causing white spots lined in yellow to break out across his vision. "Are you deaf, you ponce? Turn the fucking light off! Some people are trying to sleep," he groans into his pillow, but when he listens out for a response, he hears nothing. The light stays on.

"Could you shut the hell up, Potter?" says a voice from beside him, and without opening his eyes (because it's early, goddamnit, and he's not getting up until he absolutely has to).

"Who are you, and why are you in my bed?" he asks without moving, because the voice sounds familiar and distinctly feminine, and he wants whoever this girl is to either talk to him or leave. Preferably the latter, because he can't be bothered making small talk with a hook-up who he doesn't even remember, he was that drunk.

"I'd be offended that you don't know who I am, but I suppose you can't be expected to have more than a few brain cells to give you coherent thought," the voice says dryly, and he's halfway through imagining her eye roll when he realises who it is in his bed. He'd know that tone of voice - and insult - anywhere.

"Oh Merlin, Zabini?"

"Got it in one, Potter," she replies, and to be honest he's surprised that her voice didn't spawn a mini-desert, what with all the dry sarcasm she's exhibiting this morning. But then, it's not too different from any other day.

"Zabini?" he asks again, fisting his warm, slightly sticky blankets in his hands and grimacing at the feel, even as a new, half-terrifying and yet half-utterly spectacular thought occurs to him.

"Yes, that's me, you tosser - we sorted that bit out a whole seventeen seconds ago."

"You need a new insult, Zabs, because I could swear you used that on me last week," he retorts, and pauses to smirk into his pillow. "Also, we slept together, just saying."

"I'd guessed, seeing as I'm naked in your bed," she replies, and he turns his head and opens his eyes at that, catching a glimpse of bare skin before she kicks his ankle as fiercely as barefoot person can kick, and pulls the blanket almost up to her neck. "And don't call me Zabs."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Not particularly," she says, and he ignores the slightly strained feeling in his chest because it's obviously a symptom of not being able to breathe in this now stuffy-feeling room. "But I'm too tired to yell at you, and it's my fault for allowing you, me, and any type of alcohol in the same room as each other."

"You should get laid more often, if you're going to be this agreeable," he comments absentmindedly, and it's weird that it _doesn't _feel weird that he and his greatest rival are relaxing in bed together, naked no less, and there's far less antagonism and tension in the air that usual. He could get used to it, he thinks, even if he'd miss their fights. She always did look hottest when she was yelling at him.

"Are you offering?" she asks, her voice hovering between genuine and her usual dry sarcasm, and it takes him almost half a minute before he realises that she's completely serious.

"Sure, why not? I'm hot, you're hot, and I don't have to deal with my cousins cussing me out for messing with 'the nicer Zabini girl'," he replies, carefully measuring his tone to ensure that nothing bleeds into his voice and expression that he doesn't want there, because he would rather she not know how hard his heart is beating at the thought of non-drunk sex with _her_, one of the only girls who is interesting enough to gain and keep his attention. "It's win-win."

"You're an idiot."

"You just slept with said idiot - what does that make you?" he counteracts with his voice full of arrogant delight at turning her own arguments and insults against her.

"Completely screwed," she says with a wry twist to her mouth, and when she's being all huffy and annoyed with the world he can't help but like her, and he _really_ can't help himself when he leans across the narrow space between them on the bed and kisses her for the first time (that he remembers).

She doesn't pull away, not even for a second.

* * *

**a/n **Don't hate me too much for the ending! I may continue this, by the way, because I loveadore their dynamic, even if I'm not fully confident in this oneshot :)

_OCs named/featured/mentioned_

_- _Adrian Davies (Slytherin in their year, playboy)

- Avani Zabini (Jayani's sister, dates Roxanne, pansexual homoromantic)

- Lyndon Hughes (Ravenclaw, Lily's year, not actually a ponce) ;)

- Aria Hawkins (Slytherin, the year below James)

- Carla McLaggen (Slytherin in their year, brother of Angus, who was featured in _colours and promises_ [6])

**Please review!**


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